Pairing: Han Jisung x gn!reader (short mention of Chan)
Word count: 1066
Summary: You’re a makeup artist for stray kids - used to putting on faces, used to covering up the exhaustion under glitter and gloss. But when you find Han Jisung crying alone in the break room, you realize he’s been wearing a mask heavier than foundation.
Warnings/Tags: hurt comfort, angst, fluff, idol x makeup artist
The staff talk about him like he’s a whirlwind - chaotic, loud, full of energy, barely stays in one spot for more than ten seconds. You assumed they were exaggerating. Until the first time you tried to apply his foundation and he started rapping the order menu of his favorite chicken place while bouncing his legs like a caffeinated jackrabbit.
Still, it was hard not to smile around him.
He made long shoot days easier, kept the room buzzing when everyone else was barely holding on. You’d even gotten used to the challenge of chasing his face with a beauty blender while he talked with his hands. What you hadn’t expected was the silence.
You were walking back from lunch break, your touch-up kit tucked under your arm, when you passed by the break room door left slightly ajar. It was supposed to be empty - set change, everyone on break, no camera crew. But you paused at the faint sound behind it.
Not laughter. Not talking. A muffled sob.
Your fingers hovered at the door. You know better than to intrude. But something about the sound - raw and strangled, like someone trying too hard to be quiet - makes your chest twist. You peek in.
Jisung is sitting on the couch, hoodie pulled over his head, face buried in his hands.
You hesitate. Then softly, “...Jisung?” His head snaps up, eyes wide.
He blinks at you like he doesn’t recognize your voice for a second. “Sorry—” you start to back out. “I didn’t mean to—”
“No - wait.” His voice cracks, barely more than a whisper. He wipes at his face quickly, smearing faint traces of eyeliner and concealer. “It’s… I’m fine. Just - don’t tell anyone, okay?”
You step inside, slow and careful, and close the door behind you. “Your secret’s safe.”
He tries to smile, but it breaks halfway through. “I’m supposed to be the fun one,” he says, a bitter edge curling the words. “Can’t even cry without ruining someone’s day.”
“You’re not ruining anything.” You sit across from him, not too close, giving him space. There’s silence. He sniffs and wipes his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie.
You reach into your kit and silently hand him a tissue. He gives a weak chuckle and takes it.
“I was fine this morning. I swear.”
“You don’t have to explain,” you say, gentle. But he does. You can see it—whatever’s cracking inside him, it needs to come out.
“I just… I didn’t sleep. My vocals were off in rehearsal. Channie hyung said I looked tired and he meant well but—” He bites his lip. “I think I’m just tired of pretending all the time.” He exhales shakily, shoulders slumping.
You nod slowly. “That’s a lot to carry.”
“I used to love this, you know?” he says quietly. “The music, the stage, the fans. I still do. But some days, it feels like I’m performing even when I’m off-stage. Like people only want the fun version of me.”
You reach into your kit again and pull out a compact mirror and a cleansing wipe. “Let me help,” you say, moving gently to sit beside him.
He doesn’t flinch when you lift the wipe to his cheek. Just watches you with those red-rimmed eyes, a little stunned by the calm. “You always know how to fix my face,” he murmurs.
“I’d rather help you feel okay inside it,” you say softly.
That makes him pause. He looks at you - really looks, like he’s seeing past the uniform, past the role. “That’s not in your job description.”
You smile. “Neither is keeping secrets.”
For a long moment, neither of you speaks. You wipe away the last of the smudged eyeliner, then gently pat his skin dry. He closes his eyes under your touch, like he finally feels safe enough to breathe.
“Do you ever just… want to disappear for a while?” he asks suddenly. “Not forever. Just long enough to remember who you were before everything got so loud.”
You nod, quiet. “More often than I admit.”
He cracks a small smile. “We should run away.”
“Yeah?” you tease. “Where to?”
“Somewhere with no cameras. No rehearsals. Just—quiet. And maybe ramen.”
You laugh, surprised. “A peaceful life fueled by instant noodles?”
“Living the dream,” he says, and for the first time, it sounds real. There’s another pause. He leans back, his shoulder brushing yours. Not an accident. He doesn’t pull away. “Thanks for not pretending I’m okay,” he says softly.
“Thanks for trusting me.” You glance at the clock. An hour until showtime. “Wait here,” you say, standing.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“Getting us that dream-life ramen.”
His brows lift. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious. Instant noodles for the soul.” You return a few minutes later, two steaming cups in hand. One spicy for him. One mild for you. You sit beside him again, the room quiet but warm this time.
“God, I might love you,” he mutters.
You freeze—then laugh when you see the playful smirk on his lips. “It’s the ramen, isn’t it?”
“Obviously.”
You eat together in silence, closer now. He finishes first, sighing as he leans back.
Then the door creaks open.
Chan steps inside, glancing at Jisung worriedly. “There you are.”
Jisung straightens. “Channie hyung - sorry.”
Chan’s gaze flicks from the ramen to the red around his eyes. He reads the room instantly. “You okay?”
Jisung nods. “Getting there.”
Chan looks at you. “Thanks for staying with him.”
“Anytime.”
He nods once and disappears.
“Do you think I’ll be able to go out there?” Jisung asks softly.
“I think you already did the hardest part,” you reply. “You let someone in.” He takes your hand and holds it, just for a second. “I’ll be watching from backstage,” you say. “No masks.”
You fix his makeup one last time. Add a little shimmer, comb through his hair. He watches you in the mirror - not as an idol, not as a performer, but as someone quietly anchoring him.
“After tonight,” he says, “can we talk again? Somewhere quiet.”
You smile. “I’d like that.”
-
Backstage is a storm. But Jisung lingers, brushing your hand once before heading to his mark. “Wish me luck,” he says.
“You don’t need it. You’ve got heart.”
He looks back at you as the music starts. The lights rise. And this time, when he smiles - it’s not for the fans. It’s for you.
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BOYNEXTDOOR when they accidentally reveal their secret relationship with you
Pairing: Idol!boynextdoor x gn!idol!reader
Genre: fluff, soft, total chaos, established relationship
Warnings: bnd being a bunch of idiots that love their partner, mild language, fans being FBI-level detectives
Myung Jaehyun:
He was livestreaming when it happened — just casually reading some comments when, out of nowhere, you walked into his hotel room. He looked at you with the biggest smile... like he completely forgot he was live.
"Hey, baby" he said, stretching out his arm to pull you in.
It wasn’t until he noticed you standing frozen, eyes wide in panic, that he realized what he’d just done.
The next day, even though the livestream was deleted, Twitter was flooded with the video. People even dug up old clips, adding captions like, “How were we so blind?”
Park Sungho:
It happened during an interview. He was distracted, missing you more than usual, and when the interviewer jokingly asked, “Is there anyone special waiting for you guys tonight?” — he didn’t even think.
“Yeah, I miss my baby, Y/N...”
The moment it left his mouth, his face went pale.
The members immediately tried to cover it up by being loud, laughing it off — but his expression said it all. He knew he messed up.
Riwoo:
It was just supposed to be a collab stage. In fact, it technically wasn’t even his fault. The staff just hadn’t noticed the kiss you two shared in the background while Woonhak was being interviewed.
Surprisingly, fans didn’t take it the wrong way — they actually loved your relationship.
Taesan:
Okay, this one was totally his fault.
He was so excited to see you at the M Countdown show that he couldn’t hold it in.
“You were amazing the other day, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
He was so sweet... if only that clip hadn’t been playing on the big screen. And if only fans hadn’t been able to clearly read his lips.
Leehan:
He didn’t mean to reveal anything either. He was just so excited to be on your solo YouTube show that he couldn’t stop smiling, laughing, and giving you those heart eyes.
How was he supposed to know fans would be that obsessed — enough to dig up old pictures of the matching couple collars from that beach trip a year ago? The same collar he casually wore in a backstage vlog?
“At least we don’t have to hide it anymore?”
He always tried to see the bright side.
Woonhak:
Who would've thought a livestream could go that chaotic.
It was his birthday, and he was doing a solo live when he got a call. He picked up quickly, meaning to tell them he was live — but didn’t realize the phone was on speaker.
The way his face dropped when your voice came through:
“Hey baby, how’s my birthday boy?”
Pure. Chaos.
He panicked, accidentally hung up on you, and tried way too hard to explain himself to fans before abruptly ending the stream.
It didn’t even matter — everyone recognized your voice. Some even figured out you’d met during his MC days.
can i please get literally anything about travis stoll. i’m begging. i need more content for him. if i have to be picky all i ask is daughter of apollo reader
Ofc!! Hope you enjoy<3
Warnings: none, i think? Lmk if there are
Requests are always open<3
travis stoll masterlist
“What’s this, babe?”
Your boyfriend, uncharacteristically shy, looks up at you through his lashes, chin tilted down. You cock your head to the side.
“Travis?”
“Hmm?”
You give him another perplexed look. “Can I open it?”
You had just showered after training to find your boyfriend waiting on your bed, a brown paper package sealed with sellotape in his ever- moving hands. He had wordlessly stood up, greeting you with a shy grin and handing you the mystery item.
Even now, he’s hesitant, biting his lower lip. You reach out and pull it from under his teeth- you were always nagging at him for that habit.
You trace a thumb up his jaw, admiring the spatter of freckles along his nose and cheeks, like the most delicate painting of stars in the sky, his sunkissed skin the canvas for it.
“You- you can open it.”
“Sure?”
He nods. “But-” he places his hand over yours when you pick at the sellotape. “Don’t laugh.”
You’re about to give him a playful quip back, something about how if it’s something stupid like a plastic bug, you’re going to laugh- but the words die on your tongue and your face relaxes into something like sympathy or extreme tenderness when you realise he’s serious. The poor boy thinks you’re going to laugh at him.
Your insides dissolve to mush. “I won’t laugh. Promise.”
You can see his shoulders slump slightly, but he’s still tense. “Okay.”
Your fingernail resumes its endeavour to peel away the sellotape, but quickly growing impatient, you just tear at the paper. At first, you see nothing inside and wonder if it’s one of his silly, everyday little jokes after all- when something at the bottom glints up at you. You raise an eyebrow, but your boyfriend just looks to the side, long lashes almost blond in the sun shining through the open window. You observe the thing more closely, taking it out and laying it flat on your palm- and when you see what it is, your heart flips.
It’s a necklace. A golden chain, so carefully crafted you wonder for a brief moment if it was forged by Hephaestus himself. But that’s not what caught your attention.
Your face pulls up into a face- splitting grin, so wide it hurts. A small bow and arrow charm hanging from the end, a curly ‘T’ and ‘S’ next to it. His initials.
You look up at him with an elated giggle. “Travis.”
“Do you like it?” he asks nervously, eyes squinting, sceptical through narrowed eyes.
“I- I love it,” you beam. “Thank you. So much.”
Your effervescence is contagious; Travis rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish but easy smile you knew so well. “I didn’t know whether you’d want your initials or mine, but-”
“But it’s perfect,” you interrupt. “Thank you. Honestly. I love it.”
At your adoring reaction to his gift, he completely relaxes, face still flushed a pleased pink. “I’ll help you put it on,” he says, taking it from you and turning you around by your waist. You feel his fingers brush the back of your neck as he clasps the necklace, stroking his thumb along your warm skin. “Pretty.”
Your smile grows even wider, something you didn’t deem possible. “Shut up.”
He leans in, nosing along the skin between your neck and shoulder. “No.”
“Tease,” you mutter, turning back around to face him and pulling him in for a long- awaited kiss.
Sorry if this was really random just smth i was thinking abt yesterday
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